6 comments:

This poem reminds me of Brautigan's poem with the creature (werewolf) crying his neon tears as he looks at the Ferris wheel.

A Boat

By Richard Brautigan

O beautifulwas the werewolf in his evil forest. We took himto the carnival and he started cryingwhen he sawthe Ferris wheel. Electricgreen and red tears flowed downhis furry cheeks. He lookedlike a boatout on the dark water.

I can't help him--can't help this creature with the pain or with the beauty. Helpless looking.

How did one ever manage to engage such a cool staff of elves, to help one counteract the multiple terrors of X=Mass?

Susan,

No one can help him. The carnival only makes things worse. The bright lights trick the tears into visibility. Out on the dark waters of the Bay, it might almost be possible to sink unnoticed.

(Difficult keeping afloat anyway, in that tub of industrial crud... but what you can't see can't hurt you until you smell & feel it... wept the bewildered werewolf to himself, just as the spot lights caught him from above, not waving but drowning.)

Valerie,

A lot happier since slinking over to the gala announcement site for your brave new beyond-gamefaced project line.

I believe I can already hear the dirty-faced angels chanting merrily in the hangar as they pick the ticks out of the pollution-matted reindeer fur, after that long arduous night flight.

The perfect day for announcing the release. Let this be the beginning of a new world. Like so many of your great poems, the cover image stops me in my tracks. Who wants to keep following those old tracks?

Tom,Do you think I could quote you on your words about Brautigan's poem (werewolf interpretation) as I compose my intro to Virginia Brautigan Aste's bio. that I am shaping up for publication? Let me know? lonepoethelloyou@hotmail.com